One Rough Man Read online

“It’s rebooting now. Shouldn’t be but a few more minutes.”

  Lucas walked in a small circle, physically forcing himself to remain patient. The men returned from the rental agency, driving an SUV and a sedan. Together, they were large enough to hold the team plus equipment and perhaps one more person. The vehicles blended into the traffic around the airport, pleasing Lucas with the selection. Figured they’d bring back a convertible mustang or a two-seater Porsche. Maybe I’m selling them short.

  One of the drivers said, “Somebody just beat us to the counter. This is all they had available, but they should work.”

  Lucus mentally rolled his eyes. So much for thinking they made a conscious decision.

  KNUCKLES PAUSED THE VIDEO at the target house, seeing the same two-story style with a courtyard in the back that appeared all over the area. The front of the house was clean, with a clear path to the door. No parked cars or fences to worry about. It was located on the east side of the street, with houses on both sides and behind it.

  “What were the atmospherics of the neighborhood?”

  “Quiet,” Bull said. “In fact, we didn’t see a single automobile. A couple of pedestrians and a few folks tending gardens, but definitely not a hopping place.”

  Knuckles stared at the still image. “All right. I don’t want to do a mounted assault. We do an offset on the main thoroughfare to the east, then conduct a dismounted movement to the target from the south, the opposite direction of the recce drive-by. We move in two groups. One takes squirter control in the rear, the other enters the house from the front.”

  Knuckles paused for questions, then continued. “Remember, we don’t know what’s in this house, so we can’t treat it as a hostile force. Discriminate on every target. We don’t want to end up killing some old housewife.”

  Knuckles finished the briefing by splitting the team, putting me on squirter control. Out of the fight again. I didn’t argue, knowing he was right.

  I moved off to the rear of the lead car, checking my weapon and spare magazine placement, working to ensure I could reload in a minimum amount of time. Jennifer walked over, tentatively asking, “Hey, I’m not trying to bug you, but I didn’t understand any of that.”

  I continued working on my kit. “Based on what you guys are saying about the traffic in the area, we don’t want to drive right up to the target. We’ll park on the main road to the east, then walk there. It should help us remain undetected. Me and another guy will move to the back to catch what we call squirters—really just a name for anyone trying to run. We’ll lock down the back of the house while the team enters from the front.”

  Jennifer nodded absently, looking distinctly uncomfortable at how fast this was progressing.

  “Relax,” I said. “Your job’s over. Don’t worry about us. We do this for a living.”

  I heard the other men beginning to load the cars. “See you in a few minutes.”

  She locked eyes with me, saying, “Please be careful. Let them do the hard stuff. Don’t do anything heroic. Don’t let Carlos blow you up.”

  “Cut that shit out. You should be worrying about him.”

  I started to get in our car when she grabbed me by the arm, “Pike, I’m serious. You might have nine lives, but you’ve been going through them like a chain-smoker. A life can only have so much luck. We’re both working on credit now. I can feel it. Promise you’ll be careful.”

  I looked at her, realizing she was deeply worried.

  “I’ll be careful. This’ll be all right. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” she said, with a hint of a smile. “A little, anyway. It’s just that you’re acting different. I can’t put a finger on it, but it’s like you now think you’re invincible. You used to be an asshole about everything, sure it was failure. Now you act like this is all just a ride at Disneyland.”

  “Hey, this is what I do. I’ve been killing terrorists a helluva lot longer than I’ve known you. Sorry if I get a kick out of it, but don’t tell me to go back to what I was. You don’t like it, I’m sorry. But this is who I am.”

  She recoiled, and I knew I had missed the point. The hurt and pain in her expression reminded me of Heather the last night I had seen her. I remembered what I had said after Jennifer had thought Carlos was going to kill her in the hotel—It’s never just about you.

  “Jennifer, listen to me. Carlos is about to kill a lot of people. We’re the only ones who can stop him. And I mean we are the only ones who can stop him. You and me. You saved my life, and I don’t mean just today. There’s got to be a reason for that. I don’t want to die any more than you do, but I’m the one that’s here, and I’m the one that’s got the skill to kill that asshole. You know I can’t promise nothing bad’s gonna happen, but if it does, you need to believe it was worth it. Okay?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t do anything stupid. Please. Before you jump off of a building, remember you can’t fly. Can you do that? For me?”

  “Sure. But you need a better analogy, because I can fly.”

  “Smartass,” she said. “Good luck.”

  98

  The tech man got Lucas’s attention. “He’s right here in Sarajevo. About three klicks from the airport and moving east.”

  About fucking time. He addressed the entire team. “Listen up. We aren’t going to do any fancy work over here. If we execute, it’ll be a simple frontal assault, but hopefully it won’t come to that. Mason’s team’s in-country, and presumably tracking Pike right now. The last thing I want to do is screw up an operation he’s already executing.”

  One of the men cut in. “So we’re just backup for Mason?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I can’t get in touch with Mason or his team, and I don’t want to lose the targets again. If we can’t link up with them, we’ll get a fix on the beacon and hit Pike and the girl ourselves.”

  He saw the team start to grin, apparently anticipating an easy kill and the bonus that went along with it. “Don’t get a hard-on yet. I’ve told you what happened in D.C. Remember that. This isn’t a cake-walk. We close in on him and take him out with overwhelming force. I’m not risking another complicated operation. We smoke him and the girl, then immediately head back here and catch the first thing flying home.”

  Lucas gave the team a minute to break their weapons out and kit up, then said, “All right. Let’s move. Remember what I said. You might think you’re a killer, but this guy really is.”

  Twenty minutes later, Lucas’s team idled in the parking lot of a restaurant on the northern end of Sarajevo. They had traveled the entire length of the city, the cars spreading out on the surface roads in an attempt to contact Mason and his team by both cell phone and radio. They had failed, and now Lucas had a choice to make. I can spend my time trying to find Mason, or I can spend my time trying to kill Pike.

  He decided to execute the mission with the second-tier team, since he had no idea how long Pike’s beacon would last. Batteries might be going dead while I sit here with my thumb up my ass. Lose that, and the whole game’s over. He’d worry about Mason later. In fact, he wouldn’t worry about Mason at all. He’d failed, and now, as in the past, Lucas would be forced to clean up the mess. He liked to think he was being logical, but the truth was he wanted Pike. Wanted to be the one who twisted the knife. And make no mistake, Pike wasn’t going to die easy. Not anymore. As he saw it, all of his troubles centered on one man. The ongoing investigation that had forced him to flee the U.S. was precisely the result of this asshole’s evading Lucas’s net. The thought rankled him. Made him eager for the hunt.

  He watched the beacon track on the computer in his lap and committed the team.

  “Target’s on the move. He’s headed this way. By the speed of the beacon, he’s mounted. We’ll wait here until he dismounts. Once he’s stationary, we’ll roll. This car will lead, passing up his location. The trail car will follow, stopping short. On my command—I say again, on my command—we’ll execute the mission. Nobody, and I mean nobody, will fir
e until I give the command. Once that command is given, everyone with a shot needs to fire. Is that understood?”

  Lucas waited, hearing confirmation from every member of the team. “Okay. Good. I’ll call once he stops. We’ll take a look at the terrain, form a quick plan, then move.”

  Superimposed over the satellite image of the neighborhood, Lucas watched the beacon inch closer, seeing it stop short about a kilometer from their location. Within a minute, he saw the dot move again at a much slower speed.

  “Stand by. He’s now on foot.”

  Lucas felt the tension grow. The endgame was approaching. Pike was a dangerous man, someone to fear, but he couldn’t possibly stand up to the concerted effort of the entire team. Maybe he can kill one or two, but there’s no way he can kill us all.

  He saw the blip stop inside the courtyard at the back of a house on the east side of a small street. This was it.

  “All right. Team leaders get over here.”

  He pointed out the house, dictating where the vehicles would stop and where they would dismount and set up fields of fire.

  “We wait until he comes out, all night if we have to. Once he’s out, we open up, killing him. Pretty simple. Any questions?”

  One team leader asked, “What about the girl? Isn’t she part of the mission?”

  “Yeah, she is, but I can’t predict whether she’s with him or not. If she’s with him, smoke her. If not, we’ll find her later. I’m through messing around with this guy.”

  RETRO AND I COVERED THE BACK DOOR and a corner window from the courtyard at the back of the house, waiting on the call from Knuckles. My earpiece gave a hollow echo, Knuckles speaking in a calm monotone, “Execute, Execute, Execute.” The call brought back memories of assaults past. I tensed up, waiting to see if someone would attempt to run from the rear of the house. My mind’s eye ran through what was occurring in the house, the team flowing like water through the rooms looking for a threat. I heard no gunfire, which could be either good or bad.

  Five minutes later I heard the all-clear given, and the back door was opened by Knuckles.

  “What did you find?” I said.

  “Nothing. We found the cell phone, but it’s the only thing here right now. No other targets. The house looks like it’s lived in, but there’s nobody home.”

  “Great. That figures.”

  “What do you think? A stay-behind?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose that’s the best course of action. We don’t have anything else. I could stay, you could give me another couple of guys, and we could sort it out when the owner returns. How’s that sound?”

  “I’m good with that, but maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s turn this place upside down first. Maybe we’ll find something of interest. In the meantime, maybe whoever owns this phone will return while we’re still here.”

  “Let’s get busy. I’ll start upstairs.”

  A HUNDRED METERS DOWN THE STREET, Bakr had finished with the device and was sitting before his dinner of moldy bread and nuts when he perked up at the sound of another car, only the second one he had heard all day.

  LUCAS PULLED PAST THE TARGET HOUSE, parking on the east side of the narrow street. The position gave him a full view of the right side of the street and clear fields of fire to the front door of the target. His satellite imagery display showed the beacon superimposed directly over the house. Pike had moved inside. He waited until he saw the follow vehicle stop short on the other side of the target about a hundred meters away before telling the team to deploy into firing positions. He watched one man exit the follow vehicle and move nonchalantly to the corner of the house where his car was parked, taking cover behind a concrete planter. Another man sauntered across the street, attempting to cover the back of the target house.

  BAKR PEEKED OUT the front window. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a car stop right in front of his house with three Caucasian men inside. That was not natural at all. He continued watching from the corner of the window, wanting to believe his paranoia was getting the better of him, but feeling the adrenaline start to flow. He saw one man with a rifle walk to the corner of his house and take a knee, peering over the planter out front. The man made an attempt at hiding the weapon under his jacket, but the barrel could still be observed poking out under the hem. Bakr had seen enough.

  He raced to the basement, taking the stairs two at a time. Grabbing an AK-47 and four loaded magazines, he sprinted out of the basement and up to the second floor. Peering out a bedroom window, he saw the gunman directly below him.

  The man was obviously preparing to assault the house with the other men from the car. Bakr knew he had to go on the offensive, and quickly. He could attempt to run out of the back of the house, but feared it was already covered with men he couldn’t see. He could run out the front, but that would send him straight into at least three men. Either plan of escape would be better if he seized the initiative while they were still getting ready. He slowly opened the window, praying it didn’t squeak.

  99

  The sound of an AK-47 rocking on full automatic caused me to hit the floor. What the fuck? It wasn’t in our house, so it wasn’t directed against the team. I peeked out a window, trying to identify the source of the fire, the upstairs vantage point giving me an unobstructed view down the road. I saw a man crumpled on the front lawn of a house across the street, two doors down. I leaned forward to identify the shooter, calling, “Contact—house to the northeast about seventy-five meters away. One man down. Unsure of shooter location.”

  Knuckles responded, “Not directed at us. Everyone stay cool. Probably some sort of gang fight or leftover animosity. We don’t want to get dragged into that. Get eyes out three-sixty. Call in to let me know your position.”

  Bull called from downstairs, “Two vehicles to the front of the house on the east side. Three men. One man at the vehicle to the north, two men at the vehicle to the south. All are armed and focused on us. They’re using the cars for cover. What’s the call?”

  Knuckles came back, cold and calm. “Stand by. Develop the situation. We don’t know if they’re police, criminals, or what. If they display hostile intent, take them out.”

  I was about to call my position when a hail of bullets shattered the window to my front. I dropped flat to the floor. “Contact, contact. North side of house. Fire directed at me.”

  I rolled to my left, coming up underneath the second window of the room.

  I peered out the corner of the window, looking back toward the house with the fallen man. I caught a glimpse of a man jumping out of the back courtyard and sprinting away. Before I could process what I had seen, I caught movement directly below me and refocused. I saw a man crouched and running toward the back courtyard of the house next door. I called Knuckles, raising my H&K at the same time.

  “One man, armed, moving toward cover. Not the original shooter from across the street. He’s holding an MP5, not an AK. He’s the guy that shot at me.”

  I tracked the guy until he paused at the courtyard wall, preparing to vault over it. I ignored Knuckles’s radio calls, squeezing off three rounds during the split-second pause. The man tumbled down.

  “North side’s clear. One squirter from the original house moved north.”

  “Roger. Bull, continue to hold fire out front unless they fire first. I don’t want to kill some psycho neighborhood watch. What do we have in the rear?”

  The team members covering the back courtyard began to report. The immediate threat gone, I thought about the squirter I had seen. A man with a backpack. Carlos.

  I cut in on Knuckles getting status reports. “Break—break. Squirter is the precious cargo. I say again, squirter is PC.”

  Knuckles came back immediately. “Still in sight?”

  “No,” I said, “he’s running north. I don’t know who these clowns are, but we need to clear out of here quick.”

  “Shit ... Roger that. All elements, all elements—anyone with a weapon is now designated a ho
stile force. Engage at will.”

  LUCAS HEARD THE FIRST AK-47 rounds and snapped his head toward the sound. He saw the team member at the corner of the house two doors down doing a macabre dance, rounds stitching him throughout his torso. He saw two arms holding an AK out of a second-story window, the weapon rocking back and forth on full automatic. He was momentarily stunned. What the hell is going on? He shook off the confusion, rapidly analyzing his current options. He decided to withdraw. All element of surprise was lost. The police were more than likely on the way. They needed to get the hell out of here.

  He keyed his radio to speak but was interrupted by more gunfire erupting out of his sight, on the north side of the target house. He recognized the sound as an MP5.

  “Cease fire! Cease fucking fire! Who’s shooting?”

  “Sir, it’s Sanford. I had a clear shot at Pike in the target house. I think I got him.”

  “I said don’t shoot until I gave the command! Jesus! Everyone listen up. We’re getting out of here. Move back to the—”

  Before he could finish, another burst of fire came from the north side of the house. It wasn’t an MP5.

  He swore under his breath. This is turning into a fucking debacle. What is it with this guy? He was like a curse.

  “All elements check in.”

  He saw the driver of the vehicle to his rear give him a thumbs-up, on a knee and covering the house the AK fire had come from. He saw the final man from his vehicle running back across the street from the south of the target house, hearing him in his headset. “This is Copfeld. I’m coming across right now.”

  With the dead man shot from the window, and including himself and his driver, he had everyone but Sanford.

  “Sanford, this is Lucas. You copy?” He paused and tried again, “Sanford, Sanford, this is Lucas. You copy?”